The main room smelled like a mixture of the food cooking, rotten past meals, and unwashed bodies. In the far right corner was a wobbly old table with four chairs. In the center of the table was a candle held in a carved wood candlestick holder. The candle as well as the holder were crudely made.
She sighed. She would have to get used to such a living, if she was going to keep up her charade. Life would be hard, but ending up in the tower or on the chopping block was a worse lot.
Her muscles were rigid. How had she not known? Anger ripped through her middle. How could she have been so filled with desire? The man was her enemy. Even still, the backs of her thighs still burned from the hard muscled flesh she’d sat on.
She pinched the bridge of her nose as she took in the rest of the little room. Next to the table at the back of the house was a pile of burning wood surrounded by stones. Directly on top of the fire sat a steel pot with legs on it. The smoke from the fire escaped a small open hole in the wall which resembled a window. The makeshift fire pit looked very dangerous. The wall behind the fire was black with soot. How many fires had need of putting out in this little house?
The smell of stew coming from the boiling pot reminded Chloe of how hungry she was. Her mouth watered and her stomach growled.
Where was she going to put her horse? She couldn’t just leave him in the middle of the room. The cottage was cramped enough as it was, and the horse took up most of the space. Off to her right was an open area with a wooden beam propped up to separate the small space from the main room. Was this the place they kept their animals? There were none to be seen. The space looked too vacant and clean, as if there hadn’t been any animals there for quite some time.
Maude returned to the main room with a young man. He had soft curly brown hair and was very tall, his head almost touching the ceiling. He was also as thin as a stick. He’d not yet grown into his man’s body. He studied her with watery brown eyes.
“Chloe this is James, my son. James, unpack the horse, missy here is going to stay with us,” Maude said.
James turned his attention to Chloe, unable to take his gaze off her.
She felt awkward and out of place.
“Thank you Maude, but I can see to my horse. Shall I put him over here?” she asked pointing to the empty room.
“That’ll be fine. Boy, help her get the horse in there,” Maude ordered.
James quickly broke his stare and walked over to the area, lifting the beam for Chloe. She led the horse to the space, going into the room first and letting the animal follow her. Her horse snorted a bit, and she soothed him with whispers in his ear. James watched her as she moved and began to undo the belts holding he satchel in place. Chloe panicked. How would she be able to keep her things safe? Not that the satchel contained anything overmuch of value, but it was hers and she didn’t want to lose it.
James eyed the pack with open curiosity. She needed to think of a way to divert his attention so she could hide it.
“James, could I have a drink? I am so thirsty.” Chloe prayed her ploy would work.
“Of course,” he said and scurried away to do her bidding.
She took the pack and shoved it into the corner of the small stall behind a trough, where it would be out of sight, and hopefully out of mind. She knew with the way she must look on the outside, no one would dream of thinking the pack contained anything of value. But still in these hard times, even a crust of bread was likely to be taken.
James returned and handed her a cup of watered ale, his rough hand grazing hers. He didn’t even glance to where she’d hidden her bag. She pondered at the roughness of his hands. They were so different from her soft ones. Soon hers would be just as rough.
He turned away to give her horse a bucket of stale oats.
Lord, forgive her for the charade she’d be playing from now on. Although it wasn’t her fault that she now had to deceive everyone, it was deceitful all the same, and Chloe prided herself on being true and honest.
“Would you mind getting some water for my horse?” she asked James, lowering her eyes, not wanting to appear too demanding. She reminded herself that although he seemed to have no problem running to do her bidding, she must seem his equal or perhaps lower than he because she was a woman, so as not to draw attention to herself.
James nodded at her and left the cottage with a bucket he’d grabbed near the fire in the main room.
How long would she be able to put up with this deception? The sooner she got word to the Fergusson clan the better.
She gave her mount a pat on his flank and then went in search of Maude. The woman stirred liquid in the cast iron pot over the fire.
James walked through the door with the bucket and set it on the floor next to the trough. Chloe watched him out of the corner of her eye. He took no notice of the pack she had hidden behind the trough. She breathed a sigh of relief. What little she had was safe for now.
“Are ye hungry?” Maude asked.
Chloe nodded and smiled. Her stomach was in knots from the lack of food, as well as the stress of the day. Maude dished some of the stew from the pot into a bowl and set it on the table, motioning for Chloe to sit down.
Chloe followed her directions and looked down at her bowl. There was still leftover food crusted on its rim from a previous meal. Water and soap must be hard to come by, she thought. Too hungry to worry about it, she sat on one of the shaky wooden chairs and began to eat. The stew was mostly water, with some oats and bits of herbs, carrots, onions, and meager chunks of meat. She wasn’t sure what the meat was, but thought it must be rabbit. She gulped the cup of bitter watery ale James had given her to wash down the foul tasting meal.
From the corner of her eye, Chloe witnessed James watching her every move. She could feel his stare and tried not to look at him directly. She didn’t want to encourage anything further from the young man.
They were both of a marriageable age. Would he try to find a way to claim her? Back home, that had been the thoughts of many young men. Her father had refused them all. His only wish for her to marry his own man, Angus.
She hated to dash his hopes but marriage definitely wasn’t something she was looking to add to the pile of her new responsibilities. Yet, perhaps he stared at her with disgust and she would have nothing to worry about.
“What brings you to Hardwyck?” he asked between bites.
Chloe looked up at him and Maude, quickly forming her answer in her mind. The look on James’s face said he was truly interested, and not suspicious. Maude sat down at the table, her crusty bowl newly refreshed with the sparse stew, to listen.
“Lord Hardwyck.” She took a swig of the bitter ale to bolster nerves. What could she say? “He saved me from an assault by an outlaw. I am not from around here. My family abandoned me on the forest’s edge.”
“So they just left you, with nowhere to go and no one to see?” Maude asked, her brows furrowed together.
“Yes.” Chloe looked down at her bowl. An image of Nicola flashed behind her eyes. She closed them tight, took a deep breath, and then another bite of stew.
“So you have no one and no where?” James asked softly, his tone filled with sympathy.
She looked up, and didn’t like his expression of pity. She tried not to harden her voice at him when she replied. “No, I do not have anyone. I thank you kindly for allowing me to sit at your table.” She stared into his eyes as she said it, challenging him for his pity. He only gave her a sappy smile.
She turned her attention to her hostess. “Tell me about Lord Hardwyck. I have not heard of him,” she lied.
“Ah, the Lord of Hardwyck. He’s known for the knight he is. On the field of battle and in a tourney, he is exceptional, fierce and unrelenting. His tongue can blazon anyone who deserves a lashing.” Her eyes lit up as she spoke of her lord. It was obvious she had much respect for him. “They call him the Dragon, not only because of his family crest, but because he resembles one so much in spirit. He’s compassionate, though, to his
people and others. As you know, I’m sure, since he saved ye. Although, it doesn’t always show. He’s not as mean-spirited as his father the old earl. But he shan’t to be trifled with. People respect him and his rule. Are ye nervous?” Maude’s smile showed compassion as she leaned over and patted Chloe’s arm. “Don’t be nervous, he’s a good master.”
Chloe nodded, although inside she felt anything but. She was so filled with anger for their good master, she nearly choked on her breath. “Thank you, madam, for calming my nerves, and for your hospitality.”
Maude smiled at her and then looked at her horse. Chloe could see the woman calculating something in her mind. Her eyes flickered around the room. Chloe abhorred that she was at Maude’s mercy. The woman kept glancing at James and patting him on the hand.
“Chloe, we would be happy if ye wanted to stay with us. I’m sure yer horse here would pay yer way,” Maude said pointing at the horse.
James nodded emphatically and gave her a wide grin as his gaze perused her bosom. She suppressed a shudder.
She didn’t want to take Maude up on her offer, and instead preferred—however awful it would be—to see what Lord Hardwyck asked of her the next day. Hopefully, he’d let her work in the kitchens and she could lace his food with an herbal laxative… Or maybe something worse? No, she may loathe him to the core, but she wasn’t evil, and killing wasn’t something she could do.
“Thank you, Maude, but I think I will wait to speak with Lord Hardwyck. I would very much like to pay my own way. And I may need the horse,” she said.
“’Tis probably the best idea,” Maude answered trying to hide her disappointment.
The rest of their dinner was filled with talk of Maude and James and their life. James was an apprentice for the local blacksmith and spent most of his days working and training. His father had also been a blacksmith before he’d died a few years prior. They had once lived a richer life, but when George Smith died, James and his mother were forced to make do with what little they could, and James was not yet ready to be smithy himself.
Chloe tried to concentrate on the conversation but her mind kept turning back to Lord Hardwyck and how she might take subtle revenge and still keep her identity secret. She also needed to figure out how she could get word to her people without letting Lord Hardwyck find out. Lord, she didn’t want to get thrown in the dungeon.
“In two years time I’ll be done with my apprenticeship, and then I can buy into the guild to become a blacksmith myself,” James admonished to Chloe, pride showing on his face. Turning to his mother, he placed his hand on her arm, and then gave Chloe a meaningful look. “Then we’ll expand the house to three rooms with a sturdy wooden door. I’ll build a larger garden for ma’s vegetables, herbs, and flowers. Mayhap even be able to buy a pig, sheep and a cow.”
“That sounds wonderful, James. I’m sure your mother will be pleased.” She tried to smile but ended up yawning instead, hastily covering her mouth with her hand. “Pardon me, I am suddenly so exhausted.”
Her eyes felt heavy, and her shoulders slumped no matter how hard she forced them to stay straight. All she could think of was curling into her own feather mattress and falling into a peaceful sleep. She knew her prior life was now just a dream, but perhaps she could imagine she was home, as she lay on whatever grimy mattress Maude offered, if there were one to be had at all.
“Let me show ye where yer to sleep then,” Maude said getting up from the table. She must have seen the look of pure exhaustion on Chloe’s face.
“Again, thank you,” Chloe said, lifting her bowl from the table. She took a rag and wiped it down as Maude had done, and placed it on the shelf along with the other bowls.
She followed Maude into the little room that served as a sleeping chamber along with storage.
“You’ll sleep over there. It’s James’s bed, but he can sleep in the main room for tonight.” Maude pointed to a filthy mattress on the dirt floor.
“Oh, I couldn’t take his bed, I will sleep on the floor in the main room,” Chloe said, not really wanting to do so, but she certainly didn’t want to remove James from his bed either.
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Maude said, dismissing her. She reached into a trunk in the room and pulled out a pallet made of straw and handed it to James.
Too tired to argue further, Chloe nodded and headed for the bed. Fleeting thoughts of fleas, lice and other bed bugs crossed her mind, but she pushed them aside. She needed to get some sleep. Maybe somehow she’d be able to switch out Lord Hardwyck’s, no doubt opulent, mattress with a flea ridden one… Her body and her mind were exhausted, but the thought made her smile.
In the morning she was to appear before Lord Hardwyck, and she didn’t want to be too tired and slip up when talking to him. It was imperative to her safety she not reveal who she was, especially to him. He would surely toss her in the highest tower. She’d known before she and her family were in danger, but here she was dumped on the enemy’s very door. The heavy hand of fate had slammed down hard on her.
Chloe sat heavily on the bed, and waved away the cloud of dust that flew into her face. She needed to mentally prepare for the meeting with her enemy, and she certainly would keep in mind trading his bedding for this one…
Early the next morning, Maude’s firm shake on Chloe’s shoulder woke her with a start. Her eyes popped open, only to see the room was still dark. Why had Maude woken her in the middle of the night? Chloe gasped with fright that she may have been found out. She stifled an oath and sat up.
“What has happened?” she asked nervously.
“It is morning now. You must wake, and get ready to meet with his lordship,” Maude said gruffly.
Chloe stared at the elderly woman. Did Maude hold a grudge against her for not wanting to give her the horse in exchange for housing? She couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to wake up when the moon and stars were still out.
“Oh, I understand,” Chloe said, not really comprehending at all. She sat up and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Light filtered in from the main room, where Maude must have lit a fire.
The woman briefly left the room and then came back with a pot and a wet cloth. Chloe eyed the objects. She knew what the pot was for, and thought back nostalgically of the privy she’d been able to use in France. How she had abhorred it at the time, but now she would have much preferred the cold stone seat to the messy pot.
“Ye can use the pot to relieve yerself, just make sure you dump it out back, and this cloth here’s to clean yer face.”
“Thank you,” Chloe said, trying to hide her embarrassment. She was used to her maid providing things for her to complete her daily ablutions, but she was supposed to be on equal level with Maude.
She decided not to think on it, and quickly completed her morning ritual as best she could. With the cloth, she was able to scrub away a lot of the dirt, but she still felt grimy and filthy. A bath would have been heavenly. She undid the braid she’d fashioned at the croft, and brushed her fingers through the tangles in her hair, wincing as they snagged in the jumbled mess. It felt so much better down, but it was so tangled and in desperate need of washing. But that would have to wait. She quickly braided her hair and wrapped it in a tight bun at the nape of her neck.
When she emerged from the chamber, she felt much more refreshed than the day before, although a sneaking sense of fear tingled at the base of her spine. She hoped she did well meeting with the fierce lord today. Keeping her tongue in check was going to be a real test of fortitude.
Chloe let out a sigh of relief. Only Maude was in the main room. She certainly didn’t want to deal with James and his silly glances this morning. Her mind was already full with what was to come.
“There’s some bread there fer ye, if yer hungry,” Maude said.
Chloe nodded and headed to the table. She was too nervous to eat, but managed to get down a few dry bites.
“Where is James this morning?”
“He’s gone about his duties now,” Maud
e answered without looking up.
Chloe never realized how early the peasants and servants around her woke. She was always allowed to sleep at least until the sun had fully risen. This was something she was going to have a hard time getting used to.
“Well if yer done then, we best be getting up to the keep. I’ve got me own work to do there, and we needn’t dilly dally.”
“Yes, of course,” Chloe said, somehow managing not to choke on the dry remains of crust. “What do you do at the keep?” Would they be working together? She smoothed her shift, wishing she had a change of clothes. Despite her wash this morning, she could still smell the stench of a few weeks worth of wear, coming from her rags.
“I’m a chambermaid. I am responsible for cleaning the bedchambers. If there was a mistress at the keep, I would be one of her maids.” Her chin lifted a little when she said it.
Although Chloe didn’t know much about the social order and classes among the commoners, she knew to be a chambermaid put you at a higher status than if she were a scullery maid or kitchen aid. She frowned. What type of position would Lord Hardwyck offer her?
A fleeting look of despair crossed Maude’s face. “The way people talk the lord will never marry. He’s a loner. But at some point he’s got to get an heir.”
Chloe had to look away. His possessive and commanding words resounded in her ears. You are mine! Had he come to take her as a wife? She would have refused him if he had. Perhaps he would have taken her by force. She shuddered at the vision of the warrior pointing at her from afar. She was only comforted in the knowledge he wasn’t aware of her true identity. She could just picture the man picking her up, throwing her over his shoulder and hauling her off to the nearest priest. That just wouldn’t do. She didn’t want to turn into her mother, who’d suffered a loveless marriage.
Chloe squared her shoulders, putting a new resolved strength into her form. She wouldn’t reveal who she was, and she certainly wouldn’t marry the lord or anyone else. She would take care of herself, even if it meant she would have to empty her own chamber pots, eat meager meals and never wear beautiful clothes again. Part of her wasn’t sure she’d be able to make it. For certes, she was strong, but up until now her life had been more or less filled with leisure. How was she going to make it working from sun up to sun down, with little rest?
Daring Damsels Page 6
